


Glimpse

by Jadesfire



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 10:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack doesn't need much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> Timestamp fic for Beating Time: Four weeks later

The air on the bridge felt clean and fresh after the engine room, and Jack kept taking too-deep breaths, drinking it in. He wouldn't have long up here; he'd more or less finished fixing one of the back-up drive systems, a job too dirty for Saxon to consider taking on himself. Once he checked that the controls were all reading right, he was fairly sure he'd be back to his below-decks prison (no amenities and definitely no view) until Saxon needed him again. That was alright. Looking at the haunted expressions on the Jones' faces, the blank expressions on all the guards, Jack was starting to think that he'd got off lightly. If you counted dying of pain and drifting in and out of consciousness for days as 'lightly'.

The lights on the console lit up, reporting all systems functional again. His guards didn't seem to have noticed yet, and he turned carefully, leaning back against the console and sitting on the flashing lights, giving the soldiers a bright smile.

"Just waiting for it to come through," he said, hoping that neither of them were bright enough to come look for themselves. They weren't. Saxon didn't encourage independent thought in his minions.

Jack folded his arms and looked down on the command deck. Saxon had filled the space with a huge conference table, although why he'd done it, Jack had no idea. He couldn't imagine Saxon conferring with anyone, about anything. His eyes were drawn to the small patch of white at the bottom of the stairs, the top of the tiny tent barely visible from his vantage point. The Doctor was in there, hopefully resting and planning, working on only he knew what. For once, Jack was grateful not to know, grateful that there had been nothing to hide and nothing for Saxon to rip out of his mind. Sometimes, ignorance really was bliss.

The moment couldn't last forever, and Jack jumped to his feet as the door at the other end of the bridge opened and Saxon strode through it, face twisted into a scowl that deepened when he caught sight of Jack.

"What's he doing up here?"

"Making sure you don't fall out of the sky." There was more bravado in the words than Jack felt. All the dials were showing normal readings, which meant back to the engine room and the chains and the endless days of pain. With Saxon up here, there was no way he could stall any longer.

Saxon was standing at the top of the stairs, watching him with narrowed eyes. "And?"

Jack shrugged. "She'll fly. For now. But she needs maintenance, not repairs."

"I think I'll be the judge of that," Saxon sneered. "Take him back, stick him in a cell. I want him awake and aware if something goes wrong. It's not fun if he's not awake to scream."

Someone's tetchy today. Jack didn't resist as the guards pulled him away, mostly because the prospect of a cell, no chains and an actual horizontal surface was more than he'd hoped for. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned his head towards the Doctor's tent, trying to see him, see something, anything that would be enough to keep him going for now.

The front of the tent stayed closed, and instead, Jack found his eyes drawn up to Saxon, leaning on the bridge rail and staring down at him with a look of smug triumph. Jack froze, held by the mixture of madness and malice in that look, and suddenly he was afraid. Not for himself, not any more, but the sheer malevolence of Saxon's expression promised no good for anyone in his immediate vicinity right now. For an instant, Jack considered fighting back, making a nuisance of himself and maybe seeing if he could draw Saxon's attention away from the Doctor.  
Then the front of the tent fluttered, and Jack got a glimpse of a deeply lined face and wide, dark eyes which met his just for a moment. There was no fear in those eyes, no alarm or flinching, just a weary acceptance and something that might just have been affection.

Jack had managed to block most of the effects of Archangel from his mind, once he knew what he was looking for, but now he felt something brush against his barriers, barely more than a light touch, a mental caress that was gone almost as soon as he reached out towards it.

It was enough to warm him down to the bottom of his soul.

Then one of the guards gave a sharp tug on his arm, and Jack half-stumbled, having to turn his head to get his balance back. By the time he was steady on his feet again, they were in the lift and the door were closing. It had barely been anything, really. No more than a brief contact and a flash of understanding. But he'd been right: a glimpse was enough.


End file.
